Reverse Mirror
by Poison Rose
Summary: The Empire managed to survive to the 24th Century... and would keep on growing, if it wasn't for the efforts of the rebels. Section 31 intends to put a stop to this once and for all. Enter the I.S.S Prometheus... Chapter 3 now up! Trouble starts...
1. Prologue 1

**Reverse Mirror**

**Disclaimer:** Paramount owns the universe, but the kids belong to me. Well, most of them, anyway.

**Summary:** In the Mirror Universe, the launch of a new stealth warship may be the only thing which can save the Empire from eventual collapse…

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The woman stretched out luxuriously on the bed, long black hair spilling over her shoulders, contrasting sharply with the harsh white sheets on which she slept. Her beautiful face was calm, relaxed.

Suddenly, her eyes began to dart about under closed the closed lids, a small frown appeared and her lips became pursed.

"No," she murmured, frown deepening. "No!"

She bolted upright, blue eyes-so strange with her chocolate complexion-filled with terror. She lifted a shaking hand and rested it over her racing heart, forcing herself to be calm.

The other hand reached for the small dagger she always kept hidden under the pillow. Touching the cold metal immediately calmed her, and she caressed the blade almost lovingly.

Frowning, she arose from the uncomfortable bed, sheets slipping from her smooth skin. She walked in the direction of the food dispenser to get a cup of coffee.

"Lights, 50," she rasped out. Walking to her computer terminal, she passed her full length mirror-a gift from the Betazoid ambassador to Vulcan- but did not stop to admire herself.

These dreams were getting out of hand, she thought to herself, running an angry hand through her hair. Not only that, but she was reasonably sure that they weren't hers.

"Computer, display crew manifest."

"Access to those files has been restricted." The woman resisted the urge to cringe at the computer's male monotone voice as she issued it with a new set of commands.

"Accessing."

She smirked. This ship really needed to stop at the nearest Imperial space station for a computer refit. Classified files should not be so easily accessible, she hadn't even had to use her special code to get at the information.

"Display all telepathic crewmembers." The thoughts of humans were naturally chaotic, she mused. It was not usually a problem to find out what one of them was thinking. Telepaths, on the other hand, knew better than to go around broadcasting their thoughts and dreams to others. And these dreams came from a telepath.

She's been on edge for the last few days, since they started. Now that she was thinking about it clearly, she realised that the dreams had to be transmitted by someone without enough experience to fortify their mental shields.

The woman shook her head in disgust as she scrolled down the list of names. Lack of ability in shielding one's thoughts was practically unheard of among telepathic races in the Empire.

Telepaths had the advantage in the fleet, as they could read their opponents' minds. One who did not learn this quickly had their career end on the wrong side of someone's dagger. Her blue eyes glittered. She would find this person, punish them from interrupting her sleep, and let them go with a warning.

Of course, that depended on their attitude. If they even dared to complain… her mind was so busy coming up with all sorts of dire punishments that she nearly jumped out of her seat when the COMM beeped.

"Bridge to Commander Den'l." Where the computer voice was a monotone, this male voice was harsh and demanding.

"Den'l here, sir." She replied, crisply. No need to upset the Admiral this morning.

"Report to Conference Room One, immediately."

"Aye, sir!"

Frowning, she turned toward the chronometer on her wall. What in Nine Fires could Admiral Stokes want at 03:00 hours? On her off day, no less?

She crossed the room, taking a clean uniform out of her cupboard and making sure it wasn't wrinkled.

There was only one reason he ever called her while they were off duty- a fact she still revelled in- but this time his tone was different. And, she mused, if it was a meeting of the previous kind, he would have informed her beforehand.

As she hurriedly pulled on her uniform, her confusion gave way to curiosity. She supposed many would have been overly paranoid in this situation, but then, they weren't as protected as she was.

Besides, she thought, pulling her shoulder length hair into a low ponytail, she wasn't plotting to assassinate the Admiral at her earliest convenience, and he knew this.

Standing in front of her mirror, she gave herself a once over. Her ice blue eyes roamed over the nearly skin-tight black halter mini dress with red pinstripes fanning out from the left shoulder to the waist.

They lingered for a while at the semicircle cutout of cloth that showed off her cleavage to perfection. They skipped over the gold command sash and ceremonial dagger at her waist and she frowned as she saw a smudge on her thigh high black boots and hastily wiped it off, light glinting off the gold of her wrist bangle and gold link earrings.

Walking over to the table, she snatched up the small silver dagger and pushed it inside her right boot before attaching the silver rank pins to right shoulder. Amazingly, this entire routine took less than three minutes.

Taking one more quick glance in the mirror, Commander Den'l strode out of her quarters, receiving the salutes from her two bodyguards with a nod, heading toward her meeting with Admiral Stokes….

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**Well, it's just the prologue, but please let me know what you thought. It's my first time writing Star Trek fanfic, so any help would be greatly appreciated. Thanks!**

r: Paramount owns the universe, but the kids belong to me. Most of them, anyway.

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	2. Prologue 2

**Reverse Mirror 2**

**Disclaimer: **Universe belongs to Paramount; with the exception of me mentioning people we're familiar with, most characters are mine.

**Summary: **Still part of the prologue, Den'l finds out what Admiral Stokes wants.

**Author's Notes: **This was originally going to be chapter one, but as it got nearer to the end, I realized it really just seemed to be part of the prologue, so bear with me.

**Author's Notes 2: **My readers might have realized that it takes forever for me to update my stories, believe it or not I'm in my exam years (oooh, goody) and I can't seem to find the time. Even now, I should be working on my French, but I felt too guilty leaving my stories unfinished.

**5 bars of latinum to the first person to spot a character from Voyager!**

Admiral Marcus Stokes stood silently staring at the starscape before him, arms folded. There was once a time when he had admired its beauty, had been intimidated by its vastness. Now, he saw it as a challenge, fully conquerable if one was smart enough to avoid being assassinated.

What was required was patience, and knowing when to let certain opportunities pass you by. His thin red lips pressed themselves together until they turned white.

The classified hail which had come through nearly half an hour ago was an example of one opportunity he wished he hadn't let pass him by.

Admiral Kathryn Janeway seemed to take sadistic delight in tormenting him; he suspected it had something to do with him snubbing her advances when she had volunteered to be his Woman all those years ago.

He had made the incorrect assumption that she hadn't had anything to offer him at the time, and had turned her down, scornfully.

Now, the bitch never missed an opportunity to remind him of her higher rank.

The chime of the door startled him out of his thoughts. "Come!"

He turned around in time to see Lieutenant Travers, his chief bodyguard, stride through the door and salute him.

"Commander Den'l wishes to see you, Admiral."

At his brisk nod, Den'l entered, businesslike as usual, giving him the expected salute. "Commander Den'l, reporting for duty, Admiral."

He took a moment to let his eyes wonder hungrily over her curves. Then

"At ease, Commander."

She relaxed her posture, even though her face was still serious. That was one of the things he liked about their liasons; too many women in the Fleet these days seemed to think that once you bedded them, they were your Woman.

Which was why he and Den'l got along so well; she had no intention of challenging his Woman. A good thing too, Sam was an excellent fighter, but hardly any Terran was a match for a Betazoid woman hellbent on getting her man. Not that he would have minded seeing _that _particular fight…

"Something the matter, sir?" Den'l ventured after the silence stretched on too long for her liking.

He sighed and sat at the head of the table, gesturing for her to sit opposite him. Steepling his hands together, he began.

"I've just received a communiqué from Admiral Janeway," he spat the last two words and Den'l raised her brow in amusement, but said nothing.

"She informed me about the launch of a new stealth warship, the I.S.S Prometheus. As you know, the war is not going well. The amount of resistance cells on both Bajor and Cardassia, among others is growing with alarming frequency."

Den'l kept silent, waiting for the Admiral to make his point. None of this was news to her.

Stokes' tone dropped considerably, but he stared straight into her eyes.

"Starfleet Headquarters has ordered the Prometheus into the Beta Quadrant to find our allies, the Chi'ora. Command believes they hold the key to our stopping this war."

"The Chi'ora. And just what in Nine Fires would anyone at Starfleet Command know about the Chi'ora?" The disbelief was written all over her normally smooth features.

The admiral stood and started pacing.

"Apparently, they got a hold of one of our informants."

Den'l also stood. "Impossible, they were all killed to prevent something like this from happening. No one survived, not even our operatives close to the explosion!"

Stokes stopped pacing. "Either way, Starfleet has classified Section 31 information, and they've launched this new ship. To bring help."

Blue eyes as hard as diamonds stared at him. "Regular 'fleet can't handle what the Chi'ora have, Admiral. We both know this."

Stokes turned around, a smile devoid of emotion on his face. "That's why the Section Command wants you to lead a team of agents and masquerade as a part of their crew."

Den'l hardly flinched, she'd expected those words from the time he'd mentioned the Chi'ora.

She also knew that there was more to this than he was telling her. Shrugging slightly, she delved into his mind, not bothering to use a stealthy approach.

Stokes grit his teeth together at the intrusion, but said nothing. This was virtually the only way for Den'l to get the information privately. He had removed all the bugs in the room, but one could never be too careful.

A strange expression passed across her face, but was quickly replaced with a cold grin. "I understand."

Stokes glared at her, a headache beginning to throb at his temple. He suppressed the urge to rub them. Showing weakness in the Empire was a surefire way of getting killed.

"We've changed course to rendezvous with a freighter which will escort you to Jupiter Station where you will be briefed further."

Den'l started forward slowly, hands on hips. "Aye sir… and how long until that freighter gets here?"

Admiral Stokes grinned and squeezed her arm possessively. "Not for another ten hours, Commander."

Den'l gave him a cruel smirk and turned. "I'll get to packing, then. I wouldn't want you to have to spend any more time away from Sam Wildman's bed. I hear she's quite the wildcat…"

Stokes' knife whizzing past her ear made her trail off. She stopped just short of the door and was about to turn around, but he grabbed her from behind, pinning her to the wall. "Don't you ever mention my Woman again, or I'll snap your neck."

He spun her around to face him, noting with even more irritation the defiant sparkle in those blue eyes.

"Aye… _sir_."

Injecting just the right tinge of seductiveness into her voice had the desired effect. All threats were forgotten as the two set about making the best possible use of the remaining time.

Okay, chapter one comes next! I'm on exam leave now, can't wait til the darn things are over. sigh

**Let me know what you think! Thanks!**


	3. Meet the Minions

**Reverse Mirror**

**Meet the Minions**

**Disclaimer: Okay, this universe isn't mine. Duh. All original charcters are, however. If you see a character from one of the other series guess what? They ain't mine!**

**Summary: The Prometheus begins its mission…**

**A/N: Thanks so much to JMK758 for the review! I was beginning to think no-one was reading this.**

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Sade didn't like the way he was looking at her. Slitting green eyes over her frosted glass of Andorian ale, she could see him, a tall Ferengi (and here she had thought they were extinct) leering at her from across the bar.

Of course, he wasn't doing it openly; no one of his species would dare ogle a Terran female, especially on an Imperial station. Still, she couldn't help an involuntary shudder, and wrapped an arm around her bare midriff. _Damn uniform, she'd love to get her hands on the person who designed it. And then knife them to death._

Trying to distract herself from the alien, she shifted her eyes to the other patrons in the bar, mostly Imperial officers waiting, like her, for the arrival of their new ship, the Prometheus.

Her gaze was drawn to the five Vulcans sitting near the door; two females and three males. All of them were wearing the yellow and black uniform of either Engineering or Security. Running a hand through blonde hair, she wondered if they were station personnel, or if they were coming with her to the ship when it arrived.

Glancing back over to the bar, she saw the Ferengi talking with the Andorian bartender and shooting furtive glances in her direction.

_Shit._

With a casualness that she didn't feel, she slipped her boot knife out into the open and feigned admiration for the design. It was a good knife, pretty, easy to handle, although not as good as an Officer's Dagger. _Damn, I need to get me one of those._

She sighed inwardly in relief as she saw the fleeting fear crossing the Ferengi's face. She personally didn't want to kill anyone unless she had to, and a confrontation before she even got on board ship was something she was trying to avoid. Lord knows her life would be difficult enough on an Imperial warship.

Speaking of which…

A voice over the COMM system announced the arrival of the I.S.S Prometheus.

_About time._

She stood, smoothing her skirt (if one could call the flimsy piece of black material a skirt) planning to get to the observation area to observe the ship's docking.

She was so caught up in the excitement of wanting to see the ship, she almost didn't realize the Ferengi's presence next to her. Sade whirled on the alien, knife outstretched, fire glinting in her eyes.

"Get the hell away from me, Ferengi."

What was he, suicidal? Sade's lips curled in distaste as she noticed the open leer on his face.

"Come now, dear, you really are quite lovely. There's no need for such language." He shifted, and she saw the glint of a weapon hidden in his robes.

By this time, the bar was nearly empty and Sade started to back away slowly, knife still held in front of her. She might not have been trained at Starfleet Academy, but she had a healthy sense of self preservation and knew it was best to get out of there quickly.

Without warning, the Ferengi lunged at her, knocking the knife from her fingers. Turning with him, she elbowed him in the gut and dropped to the floor to recover the weapon, rolling and coming up on her right side.

"Terran bitch," the alien growled, starting to circle her.

Sade desperately wished she had a phaser on her hip; the man was bigger and stronger than she was. _So what, gatita? Stop depending on technology… it weakens us…_

Shrugging off the voice in her head, she danced around the Ferengi, edging closer and closer to the door. When he lunged at her again, she sliced wildly, inadvertently slashing open his arm.

He hissed in pain and clamped his unhurt hand around her wrist, twisting it until she dropped the knife, until she cried out in pain.

Bringing his mottled face within inches of hers, he smiled coldly. Apprehension filled her eyes as he rasped "You're going to pay for that, my dear…"

Sade gazed at him defiantly, refusing to let him see the fear in her eyes. _So, this is where it ends, chica?_

Suddenly, the Ferengi's cobalt eyes widened and he sagged forward, going limp. Sade jumped back before he crushed her. Shocked, she could only stare at the Officer's Dagger buried deep in the Ferengi's back.

Raising her head slowly, she met the smirk of a woman dressed in the blue and black halter and black skirt of a Starfleet science officer. The woven gold command sash at her waist glittered in the dim light of the empty bar.

Her still unknown savior strode confidently towards her, stopping just short of the body. She cocked her head on one side. "He's dead. Pity." The voice was cold, but tinged with regret.

Sade raised an eyebrow as the woman bent and removed the dagger, wiping it clean on the man's robes.

She finally found her voice. "Thank you."

The woman shrugged, dismissive of her. "I've been trying to locate him, he has some information I'd like. Oh well."

Standing, the woman tossed her long ponytail behind her and Sade got a good look at her for the first time.

The woman was shorter than she was by about a few inches, but was intimidating nonetheless. Her most striking features were her eyes; they were ice blue and sparkled with danger, contrasting sharply with her smooth chocolate skin.

Sade wondered briefly if she was human.

"You know, Ensign, it's standard procedure to salute a superior officer." The voice was sharp and Sade hastily corrected her mistake, but she could have sworn she saw a brief flash of amusement pass over the other woman's face.

"My apologies, ma'am. It will not happen again." _Stupid, Sade, stupid! _She'd been around Starfleet officers long enough to know about standard procedure.

"See that it doesn't. There are not many officers who would be lenient in these circumstances."

"I understand, ma'am." Sade stood stiffly at attention, eyes focused straight ahead. The woman tugged her chin downwards until they were eye to eye, a cruel smirk playing at the corners of her full lips.

"Not yet, Ensign. But you will." She released Sade and spun on her heel, boots clicking across the bar on her way out.

"I suggest getting cleaned up," she tossed over her shoulder.

Sade looked down at her red halter stained by the Ferengi's blood and frowned. She'd better get out of here, before anything else happened to her. _With my luck, I probably won't make it through the rest of the day._

**kkkkkkkkkkkkk**

"Bridge to Captain Calvertson."

Absently, the captain tapped his communicator.

"Go ahead, Commander."

"The last of the ship's crew is transporting from the station. We'll be ready to leave within the hour."

"Acknowledged. Captain out."

Running a hand through his auburn hair, Keron Calvertson returned to his task of carefully scrutinizing the crew manifest, trying to ascertain where his enemies at Command might have placed their own agents.

The Prometheus was the first warship of its kind, with ablative armor and the new multi-vector assault mode, to name just a few of the new technologies aboard.

When he'd requested a new ship a year ago, he had no idea that Starfleet would have entrusted him with something like this. True, he had a good deal of clout in the Empire, but still…

Calvertson was no fool; he was well aware that there were those in the upper echelons in the Empire who gave him this vessel not so much because they wanted him here, but as a way to make him fail at his duty as a Captain, at which point someone else would be appointed his position.

Therefore, those members of his crew he'd been able to choose, he'd chosen painstakingly; especially the members of his personal guard.

"You are almost finished, ne c'est pas?"

A slow smirk formed on Calvertson's face at the low purr coming from the bathroom door.

"Shouldn't you be on duty, Marguerite?"

"Oui, mon capitaine. But so should you."

Calvertson finally looked up at the tall French woman suggestively leaning against the doorframe, eyes glued on her tight yellow and black uniform halter.

Standing, he hastily closed the distance between them, lips crushing hers in a fierce kiss. His hands wandered up her black skirt and she moaned into his mouth as his fingers began a familiar rhythm, one which drove her utterly insane with want.

"Mon Dieu," she panted. "Cap… Keron… it is… oh!.. I will be… ah… late for my… duty shift… "

"I don't care, Lieutenant."

"But… oui, like that!... Commander Sular…"

Calvertson never slowed his fingers as he leaned forward to rasp in her ear. "Commander Sular can go fuck himself."

With one last cry, Marguerite went limp and slid to the floor. Shaking his head, Keron went to the bathroom to clean up.

When he returned, she had already donned her thigh high black boots and command sash, and was reapplying her lipstick in the mirror with a frown.

"I do not know why I let you… always before duty shifts, always I am late!" He chuckled at the way her English became broken whenever she was upset. He knew how seriously she took her job as assistant chief of security; it was part of that intensity that had drawn him to her.

The intensity carried over into their sex life; she was a natural dominant and strangely, he found that he didn't have a problem with that. She trusted him, which was one of the main reasons she'd let him take over from time to time.

Of course, she knew her place. That he indulged her need for dominance was something she realized as rare, and was totally supportive of him. They disagreed on many issues, but Marguerite St. Croix would never betray him. All she really wanted was someone who looked out for her and would indulge her.

She wasn't willing to jeopardize that, and so exacted harsh punishments on those who threatened him. He had her right where he wanted her.

Reaching out a hand to smooth away a wisp of her that had come loose from her strawberry blonde updo, he smiled. "You're the Captain's Woman. You're entitled to be late."

Her hazel eyes gleamed with mischief. "Aye, sir."

She gave him a wink and walked towards the doors. "I expect you to finish what you've started later on, mon capitain."

Looking at the swishing doors, Calvertson could only shake his head and frown. On the other hand, he wasn't foolish enough to invest blind faith in anyone. Captain's women sometimes got uppity, after all, and it took a good captain to notice when her loyalties started to shift.

The last thing he needed on this mission was a traitorous Woman.

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Lieutenant Commander Antonio Mendez worked feverishly at his console. So much new technology at his fingertips… he'd been gratified when Captain Calvertson had transferred him from the Argo here.

This was his dream ship, top cruising speed warp 9. 99; able to separate into 3 sections during this its assault mode. It certainly called upon his talents as Chief Engineer to work with such… new technology.

He'd handpicked a lot of his staff, but there were still a lot of people he didn't know about. As a general rule, Engineering on any ship had one of the lowest departmental assassinations (probably because hardly anyone liked working in the bowels of a ship) which was just fine with Antonio, but he wasn't about to become lax.

"Your report, sir."

He looked up at the tanned Vulcan woman with a frown; she had interrupted him. His glare didn't phase her, however, and she held out a report for his inspection.

Sighing, he took it from her. "That will be all, Lieutenant."

Bowing in acknowledgement, she saluted and turned to go back to her duties. He frowned.

His new Assistant Chief Engineer was certainly an efficient woman as most Vulcans were and she tolerated nothing less in her subordinates… a trait he could identify with.

Unfortunately, he mused, watching her flick a long, black curl over her shoulder- she'd been assigned by Command; which meant there wasn't a chance in hell he was turning his back on the woman. _Damned spies…_

If he'd acted on his instincts the moment he'd seen her file, Pierce would probably been be his ACE now, instead of her. He read history, and was well aware of the cunning of Vulcan women.

Antonio snorted in disgust. He even remembered reading in some obscure text about some Vulcan bitch named T'Pol who mind- fucked the Engineering Chief- Tucker?- on a regular basis (although he'd hate to think that story was actually true; it unsettled him for more reasons than he'd care to admit).

Right now, despite her obvious skills, the only thing that was keeping Lieutenant Peia as his ACE was the fact that she'd reported to him with two very large Vulcan bodyguards in tow.

Normally, bodyguards didn't offset him; after all, most officers were allowed at least one. What gave him pause was the fact that Peia's bodyguards referred to her as '_t'sai_' and bowed their heads whenever she spoke.

Clearly, she came from a family of some prominence. Antonio hated it; the average Vulcan was superior enough, rich ones were just a pain in the ass. For one thing, they were more difficult to get rid of.

He could arrange an assassination, sure. How long he would live afterwards, now, that was an entirely different story. For all he knew, she could be related to the Matriarch.

Of course, she hadn't acted like anything other than the ordinary Vulcan when reporting to him. She handed in reports on time and didn't seem interested in anything other than familiarizing herself with the ship's systems.

Watching her give orders out of the corner of his eye, Antonio decided to wait. He'd find out what her game was eventually. Vulcan patience was legendary. So was his.

_kkkkkkkkk_

"Bridge to Captain."

"What is it, Commander?"

"We're ready to leave the station, sir."

"On my way."

Shaylyn Marshall gripped the sides of the command chair in barely contained annoyance. This was to be _her _ship, _her _mission…. And she was passed over because of some petty admiral's whim?

Brushing her platinum bangs out of her eyes, she grimaced. Of course, her mother had promised the ship would be hers, but apparently, the great Commodore Barclay still had a few enemies left among the admiralty. Enemies who might not be able to get to her personally, so had chosen to inconvenience her daughter at the earliest opportunity.

No matter, she thought, her grin feral. She was sick of relying on her parents' resources. She'd get the captaincy, one way or another.

Suddenly, the hairs on the back of her neck started to rise and she whipped her head around to the aft science station.

Shaylyn could have sworn that the petite Betazoid woman had been watching her, but Commander Den'l was frowning at something on her console; large gold triangle earrings moving with every turn of her head.

Shuddering, she turned back to frowning at the main view screen. She hated telepaths, hated dealing with them. She'd seen one too many mind melds in her life not to treat Vulcans with caution, but as much as she disliked Vulcans, she disliked Betazoids even more.

Vulcans only performed mind melds when ordered, or when there was no other choice. Betazoids on the other hand, derived great pleasure from the pain of others, and tended to be… more creative in their mental invasions than most. Just thinking of the 'counselor' on the Enterprise was enough to make her skin crawl.

And she had thought her mother was a brutal woman.

"Captain on the Bridge!"

Shaylyn was out of the command chair and turning to salute before St. Croix had even finished.

Calvertson's eyes bored into her coldly. "Commander. Take your station."

"Aye sir!"

She was sure she detected the hint of a sneer on the ASC's face as she passed. The only thing more irritating than having Calvertson as Captain was the fact that he got to keep his Woman on the bridge; St. Croix had had an annoyingly distinguished career, even winning a Christopher Pike medal of Valour.

The two women had taken an immediate dislike to each other.

"Disengage docking clamps, Ensign."

"Aye sir!"

_No matter, _Shaylyn thought as she watched the young blonde ensign carry out the captain's orders.

_If I have anything to say about it, both Calvertson and his whore will be dead before long._

So caught up was she in envisioning just how she would get rid of them, she didn't feel Commander Den'l's blue gaze settling on her, nor did she notice the speculative frown on the other woman's face.

**kkkkkkkkkk**

"Weapons status?"

"Phaser banks operating at peak efficiency, as are all photon torpedoes. All of the ship's defense capabilities also appear to be functioning normally; however, there has not yet been a test of the multi-vector assault mode."

Commander Sular sounded almost as displeased about that as a Vulcan could. Then again, he wasn't an ordinary Vulcan.

"It is illogical to launch a ship whose capabilities in combat have yet to be ascertained."

Calvertson regarded his Security Chief with a neutral expression. Despite his rank, the man refused to wear the sleeveless vest of an Officer, opting instead to use the uniform jacket worn by the junior officers; different in that it was longer and was tied at the waist by his command sash.

When Calvertson had questioned him as to why, the tall Vulcan had simply said that it was allowed, and had refused to elaborate further. Well, if anything, it made him look intimidating. At least the man still wore his medals.

"Well, I'm sure you'll get an opportunity to test those abilities in a short while."

Sular's eyebrow lifted in acknowledgement, but he said nothing. Calvertson turned to the rest of his senior staff; intent on getting through the status reports as soon as possible, there were more pressing matters to attend to.

"I take it all other systems are functioning excellently."

"There are about 15 crewmen who have yet to report to my sickbay for their medical evaluations."

Calvertson looked at his CMO, a Trill woman with deep red hair piled high who seemed to wear disapproval like a cloak. The woman was a civilian doctor and as such, had no Imperial rank, but she had apparently been given a command sash because of her qualification as a surgeon.

"See that they report to you as soon as possible, Doctor. The last thing this ship needs is an epidemic."

A glint of pure evil appeared in the woman's hazel eyes as they slid towards his Chief Science officer. "Aye, sir."

Den'l seemed to stiffen, but the tension disappeared as soon as it came. Keron saw the action but didn't dwell on it.

"To the matter at hand," He suppressed a grimace as 5 pairs of eyes immediately fastened themselves to his face.

"As is well known, the war between the Empire and the rebels has intensified, particularly within the last few months. The Klingons have apparently made an astonishing resurgence and have improved upon the weapons that nearly cost us the slave colony on Nerendra 3."

Marshall made a sound of scorn in her throat. "The Klingon home planet was annexed nearly a century ago, Captain; that space is Imperial property. There is no way they could have rebuilt that weapon, the blueprints were destroyed."

Calvertson's eyes bored into hers. "When I want your input, I'll ask for it, Commander." He broke the woman's flushed glare and turned back towards the rest of the senior staff.

"As I was saying, destroyed are not, they are rebuilding it, and Intelligence reports state that they're getting help from an unlikely ally. The Romulan Star Empire."

"The Romulans?" Mendez looked incredulous.

"Sir, I find it highly unlikely that the Romulan Empire would choose to aid the Klingons against us. The two races have been blood enemies since before the Galactic Empire was formed." Sular's head was cocked to one side.

"I agree, when the Empire conquered Quo'nos, the Romulans were practically begging us for Klingon slaves." Den'l leaned forward, light glinting off her gold earrings.

"Whether it's likely or not, the fact remains, and support is gathering as far as Bajor and Cardassia."

Doctor Oner crossed her arms. "If you ask me, the Empire should have wiped out the Bajoran race, instead of having them scattered in POW camps. They are a useless species."

The contempt in the woman's voice was palpable, and there were grunts of agreement from all around the table. Calvertson continued as if she hadn't spoken.

"Our forces are too thinly spread over the quadrant to keep up with the rate of attack. Starfleet has therefore ordered this warship into the Beta Quadrant to garner the support of our allies there in order to put and end to this rebellion."

The expressions in the room ranged from shock to outright disbelief.

"This mission is of the utmost importance; if the rebels somehow manage to rebuild that weapon and target it at the Terran system, the Empire could crumble."

"Captain, the Klingons would need access to vessels in order to carry out this plan. Need I remind you that all Klingon vessels have been destroyed?"

Calvertson glared at his executive officer. The woman was bordering on insubordination, and he was just about to say so when Mendez interrupted.

"Sir, allies? In the Beta Quadrant?" The man's tone was careful, making Marshall's seem even more insubordinate by comparison.

"More details will be provided on a need-to-know basis. Your orders at this point are to make sure your departments are running at peak efficiency. Especially Security."

"Aye, sir!" Sular replied, although Calvertson hadn't given him an order.

"Dismissed. Except you, Commander," his eyes flashed towards his First Officer, who was sitting with a sullen look on her face.

Everyone else stood, saluted smartly, and left the room.

**kkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk**

Kitrana Den'l marched resolutely towards the turbolift, chief guard at her side while another walked behind them. Her face was set in a frown, ruminating on the thoughts she had read in the briefing. It was exactly as she had told the Admiral, the Captain clearly had no idea of what he was about to do.

She paused briefly, waiting for Parker to scan the lift and stepped in after him. The large man was Section 31 and had been on her personal payroll for nearly 8 years. "Deck 5." She smiled briefly at the man then resumed thinking.

If Calvertson went along with Starfleet's plan, they'd all be in a whole lot of trouble. The man was wise not to mention the name of their allies; she suspected it would have made the senior staff suspicious.

_More suspicious, _she amended. As far as they knew, the Empire had no allies in the Beta Quadrant; and what was generally known of the species' that lived there had come (to their knowledge) only from travelers near the Orion Belt and from the time Admiral Kirk's ship got stranded there.

Den'l grimaced. Marshall's thoughts were ripe with treachery and loathing, and it was plain that she didn't respect the captain or anyone else. Not so unusual in the Fleet, but there was something about the intensity of the woman's jealousy that just went beyond anything she'd ever encountered before.

She'd definitely have to keep an eye on her; this situation was delicate enough without that unstable element.

The turbolift slowed to a halt and again, she waited until Parker and Davis had scanned the corridor before venturing out. She usually scanned with her mind to see if anyone was there; she refused to be totally dependant on others.

_Ok, Kat, think…you need to get in contact with the Admiral. And fast, with the new warp drive system, we'll reach the Beta Quadrant in less than a month._

The Admiral had told her to wait, and wait she would, but with a situation like this, she needed to contact him immediately. That would take some tampering with the ship's communication systems, which honestly she preferred not to do; but she couldn't very well send out a normal communiqué.

That could wait… right now, she had her own meeting to hold.

**kkkkkkkkkkkkkk**

"Report, Commander." The Admiral's voice was clipped, and to the point; disapproval crackling over the COMM.

Kitrana glared at him, it had taken several hours for her to piggyback this signal to her C.O's location; whoever created this ship had certainly made it difficult, and she was no engineer.

No doubt the man had been waiting on her report for longer than he felt was necessary and someone had probably been riding his back about it. Probably Janeway.

If he thought he was going to lay the blame for this little mishap on her, he had clearly forgotten who he was dealing with.

Ignoring his frosty tone, she gave her report.

"The captain has been authorized by Command to make contact with the Chi'ora and to remind them of their pact. When they proceed- as they undoubtedly will- he is to find some way to exploit them, and make them a subject race of the Empire."

If the situation wasn't as serious as it was, the petite Betazoid might have laughed out loud at the expression on Stokes face.

"Obviously, we aren't going to let that happen." Stokes briefly checked a PADD in his hand.

"You've been briefed; do what you have to do to make sure the Section's orders are carried out. The Empress has a special interest in this matter, as I'm sure you, Commander, are very well aware."

"Aye, sir."

The signal started to fluctuate and Den'l hurried on before it was lost all together. "Sir, there is one other matter."

"Well?"

"There is a Vulcan security chief aboard, by the name of Sular. It didn't strike me as odd at first, but I'm sure he's cropped up in my reading before."

Stokes looked at her incredulously.

"And you're bothering me with this?"

"The name cropped up in the X22 files, sir." _Aha, _Den'l thought._ That got your attention._

Stokes looked at her with renewed interest through the increasingly unstable link. "Are you certain?"

Den'l snorted. "I _am _part Cardassian, sir. I remember everything."

Stokes lip curled in a slight sneer. "Noone could forget that, Commander."

Den'l could retort, he continued. "I'll check into it. In the meantime, you know how to verify this."

Den'l sagged a little. "Aye sir," she muttered, running a hand through her hair.

"I expect a report tomorrow, 19 hundred hours. Stokes out." The signal flickered some more, then went out.

**kkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk**

And at an aft station down in Engineering, Lieutenant Alexei Pierce rubbed a hand over his face.

He'd detected the makeshift carrier wave by pure chance, it was being sent through the navigational deflector at the moment they had changed warp factors. Fairly tricky stuff.

He hadn't managed to get the entire message but the ending had been enough.

_Damn it, damn it, damn it!_

That voice could never be mistaken, could never be forgotten.

Kitrana Den'l. Here. On this ship.

He'd asked the computer for a list of the ship's senior officers, hoping somehow, that his hearing was going.

She was listed as Head of Sciences. He got the overwhelming urge to laugh like a madman.

Head of _Sciences_?

He stood, abruptly. This was not happening. Not to him. Not again.

Kat Den'l.

He wondered what he'd ever done to deserve this.

Wherever she was, so was Section 31.

He grimaced.

And, apparently, so was he.

**Okay, we're finally moving along; exams are finished, yay! Just introducing everyone and making the way for some major plot twists later on. Reveiew, review , review! Thanks!**


	4. Suspicions

**Reverse Mirror 4**

**Disclaimer: sigh haven't we done this, like, 3 times already? Fine, fine, the concept for the MU isn't mine. Happy now? **

**A/N: Any references to the I.S.S Enterprise are taken from my reading of Diane Duane's Dark Mirror (wonderful novel). Although the universes are similar, they are not the same.**

Michelle Oner entered into her Sickbay briskly, barely acknowledging the salutes given to her by the occupants of the room. The Captain's request for a staff meeting, while necessary, had done nothing but put her behind in her medical evaluations of the crew, and she intended to get them to the first officer by 07:00.

Unfortunately, that would probably mean working at least partly through her off duty hours. She grimaced.

Only 4 days aboard ship and the paperwork was already piling up. If it was one thing she hated about being the chief surgeon anywhere was the paperwork. She had a good mind to send members of security to drag the crewmen who hadn't yet reported for their evaluations down to Sickbay.

"Ma'am?"

Michelle jumped at the sound of the low voice at her door and glared at her AMO. Lieutenant Jones was, in her opinion, an annoyance. The man was barely 25 and was some sort of prodigy when it came to medical matters.

She'd reviewed his file; his last posting had been on the Vengeance. The CMO and Head Nurse had died due to a surprise rebel attack and he'd been put in charge of Sickbay, since he was the highest ranking nurse. Fortunately, his mother had been a surgeon (and he had been a fast learner) so he had been able to perform adequately under extraordinary circumstances.

Her admiration for him didn't negate the fact that he was bothering her now.

"What?"

Although he'd cringed at the harshness of the word, he held out another PADD for her inspection.

"Seven of the crewman who failed to report for their evaluations did so during your absence. I took the liberty of filing them away for you."

Michelle raised an eyebrow. As much as she hated paperwork, she didn't take kindly to others doing it for her.

But the child seemed so eager to please, that she nodded. "Dismissed."

Scanning the PADD, she realized that those months as Acting CMO really had done the man good. The reports were more than up to standard.

Glancing up suspiciously at her AMO's retreating back, Michelle paused. Despite the fact that Jones had been nothing but decent to her, he couldn't be taking the fact that she, a _Trill _civilianhad been selected as CMO over him very well.

She'd have to watch the man more carefully from now on.

Three hours later, the doctor was finishing up her reports when Kitrana Den'l strode in with a PADD in her hands, not even lifting her head as she approached the office.

Michelle scowled.

"How nice of you to report to sickbay, Commander; I was just about to send security to come get you."

Den'l lifted her eyes and regarded the doctor with contempt. "My evaluation was done by your AMO. A brilliant man; inexperienced, but I believe that one day he will make a fine CMO."

Michelle's eyes narrowed. The unspoken threat in the woman's voice came through loud and clear.

"Be that as it may, you are to report to me for your evaluations."

A decidedly cruel look played on Den'l's face as she stared at the Trill woman. Michelle flinched despite herself.

"And as Head of Life Sciences, you are to report to me."

Michelle drew herself up to full height. "I was under the impression that I was to report to the first officer."

Den'l smirked and turned away from her, fingers playing with the medals on the left side of her uniform halter.

"While you are, I'm sure, well qualified for your job, the Commander has decided that, as a civilian, you might benefit from some… supervision."

The doctor scowled. Den'l took no notice.

"While my knowledge of medical science may be lacking, I do possess I knowledge of ship's procedure. You will report to me."

Michelle grit her teeth, but tried to clamp down on her thoughts. She would take this up with the Captain, himself.

"I understand."

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"_I told you not to underestimate me, Den'l. I hold your life in my hands."_

_Lieutenant Den'l glared at him, the cold fingers of fear clamping around her stomach._

_She could get out of this situation, she knew she could… if only she could think properly… stupid! Why didn't she sense the danger?_

_Admiral Hu tugged her jaw upwards until they were staring into each other's eyes. "I could snap your neck right now."_

"_Why don't you?" Den'l snapped. _

_The next thing she knew, she was sprawled on the floor of his office, clutching her left jaw in agony._

_She cried out when his chief bodyguard roughly pulled her to her feet by the base of her ponytail._

_Hu stared at her cruelly, brown eyes sparkling with perverse pleasure._

"_Oh no, my dear…I intend to let you serve as an example. To others who would even think about carrying on a mutiny behind my back."_

_Den'l spat in his direction. _

_Hu looked at her in disdain. "Traitorous Betazoid bitch. I think a few days in the agony booth, should cure some of that insolence, don't you, Commander?"_

_Commander Marcus Stokes turned towards Den'l and shrugged. "As you say, sir. However, I think a public execution would be more to the point."_

_Den'l turned murderous eyes on him. This wasn't happening._

_Hu considered it briefly. "No, she could still be of some use. Hu to Engineering."_

"_Navaar here, sir."_

"_Lieutenant, send someone down to Deck 8 to modify the Booth. I want it up and running within the next half hour."_

"_Aye sir!" The glee in the Orion female's voice was palpable._

_Den'l scowled. She had to get off this ship._

_Hu gestured to his chief guard. "Take her to holding cell 3. I want her to watch the modifications being completed. "_

_Hu had his back turned, and so, didn't see the grin on Den'l's face as she was tugged out of the room._

_8888888888888888888888_

Lieutenant Pierce sipped his coffee in the ship's mess, trying to wake himself up before his shift. _Damned night watch._

A commotion near the recyclater suddenly caught his attention.

"When I want your opinion, I'll ask for it."

Alexei shook his head. If Ensign Lipinski wanted to get himself into trouble with a woman so early in the voyage, that was his business. The kid was green. He went back to back to his coffee.

A strangled cry made his head whip up a few seconds later.

Just in time to see Lipinski stumble out of the room with a burnt face.

He hid a smirk. The kid would never learn. One of these days he'd harass the wrong woman and end up with more than a burnt face.

He watched the woman who had injured the young engineer walk quietly to a table in a corner. She was pretty, with long waist length blonde hair and green eyes. She looked greener than Lipinski; which was probably what had drawn the kid to her in the first place.

Her eyes caught his and she immediately minded her own business, going over some report or other in her hand.

Amused, he shook his head. Naïve. Just the type of woman his brother went for. Thank God they'd been posted to different ships.

"Piea to Pierce."

He gritted his teeth, all traces of humor vanishing from his mind.

"Pierce here."

"There is a staff briefing in the next five minutes; your presence here would be greatly appreciated."

"On my way, sir."

_Damned Vulcans and their sarcasm. Oh wait… sarcasm's an emotion, right?_

Getting to his feet, he made his way over to the door, not noticing the eyes of another woman on his retreating back.

8888888888

Engineering on any ship was always a hive of activity, but, on this ship, that activity always seemed intensified at any given moment. The new warp drive system was part of the reason why. It was temperamental, and that fact… irritated … its chief engineer.

And when Antonio was irritated, his staff tended to avoid him. He'd already had 2 people sent to the booth for incompetence and had threatened several more. Today was not going well.

"Bridge to engineering." The deceptively calm voice of Commander Marshall flooded his office.

Antonio cursed, silently before punching the COM link.

"Mendez here."

"Your… tinkering with the engines, while… understandable can wait until we have completed our mission objective. It would be a shame to have to replace you so early in out journey, but if you don't have the focus it takes…"

"Understood." He managed to growl out.

"Very good. Bridge out."

Sighing, Antonio turned back to his systems analysis.

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Den'l scowled for the third time in as many minutes. This foolish course Starfleet had assigned the captain was going to cost them all dearly if they weren't careful.

Spending most of the last few days down in the science lab, and with help from the Section's operatives under her command she'd managed to rig the astrometric scanners to alert her if their 'allies' managed to somehow sneak up on them again like they had the last time a Starfleet ship had encountered them.

_We're better prepared this time._

Her subconscious gave a bitter laugh at that. The ship was more advanced, but the fact that the mission was a covert one made everything twice as hard as it should be.

_Especially with a Vulcan security chief._

She'd realized early one that to send an undetected signal from this warship was almost impossible, and she couldn't use the method she'd already employed twice.

Mulling over an astrometrics report just handed in, she paused.

"Ensign…"

"Selman, sir."

Kat nodded. "Ensign Selman, this report is exemplary. See to it that you continue this way and you may well be on your way to a promotion."

"Aye, sir!"

"Dismissed."

The Betazoid's eyes lingered on the young woman's back for a while. It was a calculated risk she was taking, of course, but she needed to have an operative she could trust in the astrometrics position on the bridge and Jade Selman was a prime candidate… for many reasons.

However, that didn't address her current problem of finding a way to communicate with the Section. Admiral Stokes hadn't given her any agents in the engineering division who were intimately familiar with the ship's systems as a Section agent should be.

Running a hand through her hair, she sighed. She'd find a way.

888888888888888888888

"You see, sir? The evidence is there, plain as can be."

Calvertson looked over the medical report that had brought Doctor Oner to his ready room after her terse request to meet with him about an 'urgent' matter.

At first, he'd been skeptical of the Trill woman's claims, but the evidence she had presented him with had been perfectly valid.

Usually, he didn't care what species his crew was, as long as they obeyed him and were loyal to the Empire; however, he did have a problem with officers that lied about their species.

Granted, such things were hardly uncommon. It was well known that you stood a better chance of advancing in rank if you happened to be an Imperial citizen, such as the Terrans, the Vulcans or the Betazoids instead of one of the other minor or slave races.

Genetic resequencing had been quite popular at one time, and, although not as widely used as before, it was still heard of, although that wasn't the case here.

He thoughtfully rubbed the scar that ran from his right ear down to the back of his neck. "Could she simply be unaware of this?"

The red haired woman seemed about to say something, but thought better of it. "I wouldn't presume to know, sir, but given the delicate nature of our mission… I thought it my duty to report this to you."

The captain nodded and tapped the communication panel on the wall. "Commander Sular, report to my ready room."

Michelle folded her arms as she regarded her captain. "You suspect her of being an enemy spy, sir?"

Shrugging dispassionately, Calvertson returned to his seat. "That's what I intend to find out."

The door opened, and Sular entered, saluting his Captain and giving a nod of acknowledgement to the doctor. "Sir?"

Entering orders on a PADD, the captain turned to his hand picked security officer. "Bring Commander Den'l here. I want a minimal security team, no Terrans."

The Vulcan man raised an inquisitive brow, but nodded his assent.

**What next? Keep reading to find out:)**** It's shorter than I would have liked, but I have some serious writer's block and I just felt that I had to post something.:)Flames are NOT welcome, constructive reviews are. **


	5. Chapter 3

Reverse Mirror

Reverse Mirror

**A/N: I was wondering where the story was going, but then I decided on which way to go, so that's always good news.:)**

**A/N 2: The Prometheus of the story refers to the mirror universe counterpart to the NX 59650 that Voyager's Doctor visited in Message In a Bottle.**

**Disclaimer: This chapter is mine. So there. Star Trek is the brainchild of Gene Roddenberry. **

**Read and review, please! Sorry for how slowly all my chapters are coming, but life happens. :(**

**88888888888888**

It was certainly a wise move, Commander Sular thought as he and his minimal security team (per the Captain's orders) moved purposefully through the ship's corridors.

Of course, he knew better than to ask the Captain himself what he required of the Science Officer, but he was sure that would be revealed once he had brought her into custody as he had been instructed.

Truthfully, however, it would have been illogical to deny the fact that he was slightly puzzled.

In the extremely short time since this mission's beginning, he had been keeping an eye on the several members of the crew that the Captain had believed to have been spies from command, in addition to those that he himself had seen as being acting suspiciously.

Commander Den'l had not been one of the aforementioned crewmen.

Since this mission's beginning, he had had occasion to work with her three times, and he found her to be quite efficient at her job, having had a quite distinguished scientific career before her current posting.

The only thing he supposed was somewhat out of character for a Betazoid was that she had not spoken to him telepathically; most of her species preferred telepathic speech. However, he had taken it as an indication that she understood the value of privacy of the mind to a Vulcan and had simply been thankful for that idiosyncrasy.

She had not been involved in any of the four major security breaches which had occurred since the mission's beginning, and as far as he knew, she had not been having problems with her staff, nor had she been anything other than a model officer.

Perhaps, he mused, it was because she was a Betazoid. Vulcans and more recently, Betazoids, tended not to have much of a problem maintaining discipline in their respective departments.

However, he thought, almost annoyed with himself at his lapse in concentration, something had obviously been brought to the Captain's attention of which he was unaware. He had obviously already failed the Captain. He would bring the woman into custody.

8888888888888888

Yawning, Sade made her way to the turbolift.

She still wasn't used to the ship's artificial night, but working as the night shift pilot suited her just fine.

The ranking officer on gamma bridge shift was Commander Sular, which meant that shifts usually passed quietly and efficiently.

She was actually about 15 minutes early, but one could never be too punctual with a Vulcan.

Of course, that wasn't the only reason she was early; she was giving herself extra time in case she came upon some unexpected trouble, like the time she'd had to throw her entire mug of Muldanian tea into Ensign Lapinski's face.

Fortunately, she'd still managed to get to work on time.

As she heard the turbolift get nearer, she immediately became more alert. She hadn't made any enemies during her brief time aboard (well, unless she counted Lapinski) but being alert was a survival strategy, especially on an Imperial warship.

Things weren't as bad as they were decades ago, but one still had to be careful.

As the lift doors opened, she stood to one side, recognizing the two people that exited as regular security personnel, Ensigns Vasquez and Cho. They nodded to her and continued down the corridor.

Letting out a sigh of relief that it wasn't anyone of a higher rank, she stepped inside.

"Hold."

Spinning, hand on her dagger, she came face to face with the amused smile of the woman who had saved her life at the starbase. Commander Den'l, Chief Science Officer.

She flushed, but saluted. "Sir."

Shaking her head, the woman entered the lift, followed by two personal guards, one of whom nodded at the ensign.

Lieutenant Delise Stadi's quarters were next to hers on deck 12 and the woman was, like Sade, a fellow CONN officer.

Of course, Sade mused, she hadn't known that Stadi was also a guard, although in hindsight, she really should have.

Only ship's security personnel and personal guards were allowed to carry phasers at all times, and Sade had indeed seen the petite Betazoid woman with a phaser attached to her right hip more than once.

"Do you always think so loudly, Ensign?"

Flushing again, Sade answered. "I'm sorry sir."

Den'l shrugged. "It is of no bother to me, Ensign; your people constantly broadcast their thoughts to the galaxy at large. It's admirable that you've managed to survive so long."

Privately, Sade agreed with her.

As the lift slowed, Den'l gave her an appraising glance. "I only mention it because you happen to be on a ship with several telepaths on board. It would be in your best interests to remember that. Attempt to guard your thoughts."

Before the blonde could even try to fathom why Den'l had given this advice to her, of all people, the doors swished open to deck 5.

Immediately, she noticed a change in the two guards and unconsciously, she tensed as well.

She couldn't see what was outside from where she was, but she recognized the voice which came from outside the door. The inflectionless voice of Commander Sular was unmistakable.

She was extremely glad to be early for her duty shift.

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When the door had opened to reveal Sular and his team, Den'l had been surprised, not only because Stadi had scanned the corridor first and had found it to be empty, but also because she hadn't sensed anyone there.

However, she had allowed none of her surprise to show on her face. Instead, she had saluted and dipped her head in acknowledgement.

"Commander."

"Commander Den'l, the Captain wishes a word with you."

She smiled, but inside, her mind was racing._ Had her mission been compromised?_

"And he sent you, instead of contacting me over the Comm system?"

The Vulcan also smiled. It was slight, but present. Rather chilling, if one considered the fact that Vulcans weren't supposed to smile.

"Evidently." , was the dry response.

_So, he doesn't know why the Captain wants me either. Interesting._

In a rare move for her, Den'l carefully lowered her mental shields long enough to ascertain that what the Captain wanted of her had nothing to do with him figuring out the nature of her true mission.

Satisfied, she raised them again, extremely glad for the protection against the onslaught of emotions and stray thoughts of the mostly Terran crew.

Dipping her head in acquiescence, she moved aside, letting him and his security team into the already occupied lift.

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In the darkness of her quarters on Deck 11, Lieutenant Peia lit her candle in preparation for meditation.

The day had been an especially chaotic one in engineering and she had pulled a double shift as Lieutenant Commander Mendez had her supervising the last set of modifications needed on the warp core.

After a day such as that, she needed to find her centre.

Half an hour later, however, the Vulcan woman still had not achieved the peace and tranquility she so sought.

Trembling, and sweating, she opened her eyes, abandoning her futile efforts. Stumbling over to her closet, she dug frantically into a box of her personal effects.

_No. Not this, you are stronger than this._

_I'm NOT!! _

_Strive for control… strive for balance…_

_I tried!! It's not working! Only one thing works… _

_Stop. You have the will to resist it._

As the battle raged within her, Peia found what she had been searching for.

Holding the slim Vulcan hypospray seemed to shake her out of her reverie and she knelt on the floor, confusion casting doubt on her usually expressionless face.

_Remember cthia… control… always control…_

Nodding absently, the woman tried to draw the three breaths so crucial to calm… and found that she could not. The shaking resumed anew.

_You don't understand!! _

_Balance… remember Surak…_

Sobbing outwardly now, Peia's trembling fingers adjusted the controls of the hypospray. She'd had hoped that this would not follow her here. It was… illogical.

Unfortunately, for all of her weak protestations, for all of her so called freedom here on this ship, for all of the titles she was known by… she was still a slave.

And the last thought before the trellium- D filled hypospray kissed her neck was _I'm sorry father. I failed you._

**88888888888888**

Let me know what you think… no flames, as I will simply ignore thm.


	6. Predjudices

Reverse Mirror 6

**Disclaimer:** Star Trek is not mine, and it probably never shall be.

A/N: On with the story lol

**JJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJ**

"Come."

The ready room doors swished open admitting an expressionless Sular and a slightly confused looking Den'l.

Both saluted, and Calvertson noted that Den'l's Officer's Blade was missing from its customary place in her right boot, as was standard procedure. No one got to approach him in the ready room with a weapon except security personnel.

"You wished to see me, Captain."

"Dismissed, Commander."

The tall man looked about as surprised at that as a Vulcan could. Then again, it could simply have been a trick of the light.

"Sir?"

"I said dismissed. If there's a problem, I'll let you know. You do have a shift to supervise, unless I'm mistaken."

The words were cold, but the look in Calvertson's eyes promised to inform his most trusted officer later of the situation.

"Of course, Captain."

Sular knew that whatever the issue was, the Captain must have had a good reason for not going into it then and there.

Saluting once more, and nodding again to the Trill woman next to the Captain, he turned on his heel and left.

**8888888**

Calvertson studied the woman in front of him.

She'd reported to him for duty at the start of their mission, but he hadn't scrutinized her physically at the time.

Right now, she was respectfully standing at attention, ice blue eyes glued to a spot just above his left shoulder.

_Ice blue. Not black. That's interesting._

Her posture was cautious, but not overly concerned.

"You're probably wondering why I've called you here, Commander." He was testing her, of course. Everyone knew about Betazoid telepathy.

Intellectually, he understood why the Empire had made an alliance with them instead of destroying them like it had so many telepathic races before, but he still wasn't comfortable with them serving in the Fleet.

He saw a hint of a smile ghost across her lips, but in another second it was gone.

"The idea had crossed my mind, sir."

He noted with some interest that her eyes slid briefly across to where Doctor Oner was standing at his left before making eye contact with him for the first time.

"Am I ill?" The question sounded perfectly genuine on the surface, but he could detect a hint of amusement as well as hostility towards the doctor.

_She's not intimidated by me. Then again, why would she be?_

Choosing to be blunt, he continued.

"You know why you're here."

Without changing inflections, she spoke again.

"Contrary to popular belief, not all of my people enjoy prying into the minds of other species. Betazoids appreciate bluntness, yes, but I find that Terrans in particular are quite secretive by nature. As a scientist, I find your people far more interesting if I choose not to delve into the recesses of your minds."

The Doctor snorted.

Calvertson suppressed a smile.

"It doesn't seem like that policy of yours is very conducive to military life, Commander. Your people have an advantage."

This time, the woman's smile was genuine, if chilling.

"As you say, sir."

_Cunning. _

"The doctor was looking over your medical scans. She's noted something _unusual_ about them."

Breaking posture for the first time, the petite woman turned and glared at the Trill woman.

"The _doctor_," she spat, "hasn't found anything in my current scans that hasn't been already discovered by Imperial doctors."

"So you admit that you _are _part Cardassian."

"There's nothing to admit, Captain, the note has already been made. All non Terran species granted admission to the Academy are given several _tests_ to prove themselves. Quite _thorough_ tests."

The bitterness in the woman's voice was unmistakable, but he didn't focus on it. Sitting on his desk, he shrugged.

"Your previous medical records don't show any evidence of your Cardassian bloodline." His voice was soft, calm, just the kind that had lulled others into feeling comfortable before their words hung them.

Immediately, Den'l focused piercing blue eyes on him. She opened her mouth to say something, but he cut her off.

"Let me make myself clear, I quite frankly don't care what species you are, as long as you get your job done. However, I don't like when records are tampered with; that constitutes a threat to me and my ship, and I don't take kindly to threats."

Cocking her head to a side, she observed him, alien eyes glittering.

"I don't care for shipboard politics, and I didn't tamper with my records. What would be the point of removing information from my own files which would be discovered anyway during my physicals?"

The captain had been wondering that exact question.

Den'l smiled. "Exactly."

Doctor Oner snorted in disbelief.

Den'l ignored her.

"This isn't the first time this has happened, Captain. At my last three starship postings similar incidents occurred. I'm a Betazoid and part Cardassian. Someone on the crew may simply be trying to get you to mistrust me from the start."

Doctor Oner rolled her eyes. "Why would anyone trust a telepath?"

Calvertson templed his fingers.

"You're dismissed, doctor."

"But sir…" The sentence died on her lips as she saw the glare the captain sent her.

"Aye, sir."

Giving the other woman one last mistrustful look, the doctor saluted and marched out of the door.

There was silence for a while, while the Captain contemplated his steepled fingers. Den'l stood patiently, waiting for him to say what he had to, slightly cautious, but more curious than anything.

"The doctor doesn't seem to like you very much, Commander."

Den'l blinked. "She's a Trill, sir. Her people bear a grudge against mine for both conquering them and turning them over to the Empire."

"I meant that she seems to have something against you personally."

Den'l actually laughed. "I'm a Betazoid. That's enough."

Standing, Calvertson shook his head.

"We just started this mission; I'd hate to lose any of my senior staff over trivialities."

"As you say, sir. However, that's part of the risk of your job. There's a reason I'm in the science track."

The captain smiled, but didn't say anything.

"Dismissed, Commander."

Den'l saluted, but before she could leave, a violent tremor shook the ship, throwing Den'l to the ground.

"What in blazes?!"

Calvertson strode towards the door.

Commander Sular's voice sounded eerily calm over the comm.

"Red alert, all hands to battle stations; Captain to the bridge."

The captain was already out of the door, leaving Den'l to pick herself up and follow.

Shaking her head, she frowned.

This wasn't good.

Not good at all.

**HHHHHHHHH**

**It's been more than a while, I know lol but no, I have not abandoned this story. Constructive criticism is always welcome.**


End file.
